


The Siren and the Doll

by ATdotCOM, HuntAtDuskAtDawn, WillowsRambles



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pokemon, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Pirate Cynthia, Prince Steven Stone, Slow Burn, lesbian pirates hell yea, more chars come in later :D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATdotCOM/pseuds/ATdotCOM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntAtDuskAtDawn/pseuds/HuntAtDuskAtDawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowsRambles/pseuds/WillowsRambles
Summary: The energy in the kingdom could be described in one word: bright. There was laughter, music, and an overall excited air spread throughout the streets of the kingdom. Such joy was felt by all in the land...This is not your typical fairytale.Lady Diantha is to be married to Prince Steven of Devon when a sudden disaster leaves them oceans apart, the noblewoman in the clutches of a famed and feared pirate known only as the Siren. Unable to escape, Diantha is forced to come to terms with what little knowledge she has, her current situation, and her allegiances.
Relationships: Carnet | Diantha/Shirona | Cynthia
Comments: 21
Kudos: 32





	1. I.

The energy in the kingdom could be described in one word: bright. There was laughter, music, and an overall excited air spread throughout the streets of the kingdom. Such joy was felt by all, except for the very causes of said elation. They sat alone in a room opposite to one another, ten feet apart, both gazing out different windows at the city below. 

Children in colorful dresses rushed throughout the stone streets, running toward the grand castle, their backs to the vast blue sea that could be seen from anywhere in the kingdom.

Diantha sighed as her fingers tapped her knee nervously. Her eyes wandered from the scene outside the window to the man who sat across the room, quickly looking away when she saw his bored expression.

“L-Lovely day, isn’t it?” She tried to sound friendly, only to wince when her only response was a quiet and awkward cough.

“Let us...skip the small talk, Diantha.” Prince Steven sighed as he fiddled with the rings on his hand. “I know you are just as nervous as I am.”

"It's hard to believe, even now…" Diantha murmured, "...that in a few hours, we'll be wed."

Steven did nothing but hum absentmindedly and remained focused on his rings. Diantha could not ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was getting married, _married!_ What should be a riveting, joyous occasion for her somehow felt utterly… disappointing. The distance between her and her future husband stung. It was nothing like the fairy tale books her handmaidens had read to her when she was still a child. Prince Steven was kind and handsome, yes, but calling him charming was a bit of a stretch. His eyes never glimmered when he looked at her, but rather when he looked at jewels, stones, and his advisor. 

The awkward silence loomed over the room like a curse, only for it to be broken as the large wooden doors opened. 

“Pardon the intrusion, your Excellencies, it’s time to prepare for the wedding ceremony.” A young handmaiden peeked into the room. “Lady Diantha, if you would come this way, please…”

“Ah— of course,” Diantha answered, rising to her feet. She hesitated, turning back to Steven and attempting a small smile. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” To her disappointment, but not to her shock, his eyes remained focused on the window.

The handmaiden led Diantha down the long, confusing halls of the castle, and she started to wonder. As beautiful as the halls were, something about the large grandiose paintings and the velvet carpets unsettled her. It felt as if she was on a stage, starring in a lavish play. However, she could not imagine herself acting as the perfect wife, the perfect queen for the rest of her life. She wanted to play more roles than that. Was this truly the fate of a noble? Once she and the handmaiden reached her chambers, Diantha was stripped of her day dress.

“Your Grace,” The handmaiden spoke as she gathered the lavish white dress for the noblewoman, “I cannot help but be jealous of you. Getting such a large festival for a wedding… It seems so exciting to me! All the music, the flowers, the charm! And to get to marry such a handsome prince… I am sure every girl in the kingdom wishes to be you right now.”

Diantha could not help but smile weakly at the young handmaiden. “I suppose so. You only get married once, after all.”

The chapel was far too crowded for Diantha’s taste. As she peered down the aisle, she recognized a few faces. Though the crowd was mostly nobles Diantha had met once and forgotten, a few people stood out. Her mother and father, of course, as well as the king and queen. She could even see that teal haired advisor of Steven’s buried amongst the rest. At the altar, Steven was dressed in an intricate red coat, still playing with his rings. He always wore those rings; Diantha did not have a single memory of the Prince where he was not wearing his rings. Would their wedding band even make a difference to him, or would it just be another jewel adorning his hand…?

Diantha was snapped from her thoughts as the dark timbre of the organ rang throughout the chapel, accompanied by the rumble of everyone sitting in the church pews standing up at once. The sounds flooded Diantha’s tumultuous mind and drowned out the creak of the chandeliers above their heads. All eyes were either on her or on the prince. Gripping her bouquet of flowers, the future princess started her way down the aisle, only the smallest of smiles present on her face.

The walk down the aisle to the altar felt like a trek across the desert with no water. Everything was dry: her mouth, the look in Steven’s eyes, the feeling of the chapel’s floor under her shoes. Once she finally arrived at the front of the church, the priest started to speak.

The ceremony passed slowly, every second dragging along like Diantha’s excess skirts. The droning voice of the priest had her struggling to stay alert and still. Wasn’t this supposed to be an exciting moment? Something she would never forget? It felt more like a chore.

“Do you, Prince Steven, take Lady Diantha to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The priest asked, and Diantha looked at the prince, her future husband.

She could hardly read his face. 

“I do,” he answered, voice painfully toneless, yet it seemed as though no one else noticed but her.

“And do you, Lady Diantha, take Prince Steven to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

_"She does not.”_

The voice echoed from above their heads. Diantha glanced up and gasped. Sitting there, _reclining,_ really, on the largest chandelier, one leg daintily crossed over the other, was a person. A woman, Diantha realized, one wearing men’s clothing; a rich blue jacket with golden embroidery, trousers, and sturdy, sleek black boots. She was gorgeous. Her hair was long, reaching well past her waist and adorned with various beads and feathers braided into her golden locks. Though her face was mostly obscured by the shadows cast by the candles of the chandelier, her grey eye glowed confidently as she gazed down at the to-be couple. How had she gotten up there? How had no one noticed? A glance towards the prince told her he was just as appalled as she was, although a darker, yet still unreadable expression crossed over his face. 

Everything happened too fast; all at once, the woman sprung from the chandelier, landing as light as a cat between Diantha and Steven before spinning and knocking the priest between the eyes with the pommel of her cutlass. The man crumpled to the floor like a limp piece of paper. 

Before anyone could speak, Diantha’s feet left the floor and her world turned upside down. She could only manage a strangled squeak as the she-pirate easily lifted her onto one shoulder, turning to Prince Steven with a sickeningly sweet, malicious smile. “Sorry to rain on your parade, your Highness, but I think I’ll be taking your bride with me.”

The entire chapel was stunned into silence. Nobody moved, nobody spoke as the pirate began backing away. It was as if time had stopped. Diantha couldn’t see anything, but her stomach twisted in terror. Were they really going to let her get taken away this easily? 

Suddenly, _finally,_ the prince snapped out of his stupor, shouting for his guards. “Do not just stand there! Do you not know who that is!? That is the Siren — kill her!”

“Whoops,” the Siren purred, adjusting Diantha on her shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, Milady… Things might get a bit rough.” The Siren turned suddenly on her heel, and for a split second, Diantha could see Steven’s face, full of rage and terror. He was obscured by a wave of guards not a moment later, and just like that, Diantha was jolted as the Siren began to run, bursting through the doors leading to the church’s tower. 

“Steven!” She shrieked, clawing and pounding at the Siren’s back as everyone, everything she knew vanished from view, replaced with dim stone stairs and walls.

The Siren continued to run tirelessly. The shouts and clanking armor of the guards echoed up from below them, but Diantha was unable to glimpse even a hint of one of them. No glint of steel, no face, no foot, no hand, nothing. Then, they emerged into glaring sunlight, at the very top of the church. The she-pirate stopped running, turning slowly to observe their surroundings. Beyond the walls of the balcony were nothing but air and the cliffside down to the sea below.

There was no place to go from here. Diantha couldn’t help but wonder just how far her kidnapper had planned this. The Siren peered over the edge of the balcony, unmoving, while the metal clanging of the approaching guards grew closer and closer. And then five, six, seven guards erupted onto the balcony, swords drawn. The Siren quickly scrambled onto the ledge as they did, unsheathing her own blade and pointing it towards the men.

“Ah-ah,” she warned. “One wrong move and I’ll release her over the edge.”

The words were distant to Diantha, as if her head was underwater. She couldn’t focus on the pirate’s words or the soldiers behind her, only aware of the dizzying, hypnotizing drop to the churning waves of the sea below, drawing her in. A fall into the water from this height would kill her as surely as smashing onto the rocks of the cliff, and if it didn’t, drowning would. Diantha gasped for air feebly, her breaths shallow as her corset grew uncomfortably tighter with every passing second. Faintly, she noted that if she were standing on her own, her legs would give out beneath her, and in her terror she’d fall to her own death. Only the Siren’s strong, steady arm around her waist was keeping her alive at this rate.

There was a murmur of uncertainty and dissent among the guards. Diantha could hear the smirk in the Siren’s voice as she spoke to the guards. “Good boys… now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

And then they were weightless, flying, falling, plummeting towards the sea. Diantha screamed as they tumbled through the air, and the last thing she saw was a guard, distraught, peering over the ledge of the church’s tower, and the world went black.

  
  
  
  


  
  
Along with the sunlight, the brightness of the kingdom had long faded. There was no more joyous music, and the ballroom that had been done up for the wedding reception was empty. Empty, except for the two men who stood by the large window. One, Prince Steven, kept stern steel blue eyes focused on the azure ocean beyond the kingdom’s land. The other, his advisor, kept his eyes on the floor.

“She escaped.” The prince murmured distantly. Somehow, _somehow,_ the Siren, according to the reports he received, had jumped off the church and towards the sea, swinging onto her ship as it sailed by. “They got careless and let her escape onto her ship with Diantha.” The rage in his voice was clearly audible.

“Your highness,” the advisor bowed his head and spoke, his voice a hushed whisper. “I swear, I will find the Siren myself, and return your betrothed to you.”

“You better get going then, Wallace.” Steven tore his eyes from the endless sea to look at the other. This was not what his wedding night was supposed to be like. This was not the story the fairy tales had told. “Captain Drake has already directed a ship to trail after the Siren’s. If you want to get on that ship, you best leave.”

“The Captain is not going himself?” Wallace, who had already turned to exit the ballroom, looked back at the prince, left hand on the hilt of his sword. “Who will be leading the ship he sent?”

The prince bit his lip for a moment. “Well… If I tell you who is leading the ship, I am sure you will not be pleased.”

The advisor frowned, but nodded regardless. After one last bow to the prince, he left the ballroom, and left the prince alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> w h e e z e 
> 
> We hope you enjoy this fic! Chapter 2 will be coming soon, so keep an eye out for it!


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way she moved, every roll of her hips, every toss of her head and wave of her arm was… enthralling. Diantha began to understand just how Captain Branwen had earned her nickname.

It had been a few days since what the crew had taken to calling ‘The Siren’s Greatest Stunt’. It was a sure fact that the news of the (almost) Princess’s kidnapping had spread throughout the entire kingdom. No matter what the King and his court did to keep the fact a secret, no one could stop the gossip that spread like wildfire. It would start with one of the guards telling his wife, who would mention it at the market the next day, where a merchant would overhear and proceed to tell the story every time he stopped.

The thought of panic on the mainland left everyone in the crew in good spirits. The Siren stood on the bow of her ship, the _Leviathan,_ gazing out at the vast emptiness of the sea. There was nothing better than the sounds of waves crashing after a victory, and she had never had a victory as great as this one. As much as she’d love to stay out on the ocean and never stop at shore again, though, the reality was that they needed supplies if they were to survive. 

“Yo, Captain!” A cheery voice piped up from behind the Siren, rousing her from her thoughts, and she turned to see one of her most loyal crew members, a young man with fiery, curly hair by the name of Flint. “Where’re we headed now? We’ve been goin’ on the orders of ‘away from Devon’ for a few days now.” 

“At this rate, we’ll run out of ocean to sail or run out of fruit sailing it.” Another voice drawled, coming from a lanky and tired-looking blonde man — Volkner, Flint’s partner. He came up behind Flint and rested his chin on the other man’s shoulder, waiting for the Siren’s answer expectantly.

“Well, our next stop will be Iron Island, but with our supply levels as they are, we won’t make it there. There are a few small islands to the west, and from what I know, there are some settlements there. If we’re lucky, we can stock up there.” Cynthia had to take into account the new person on board her ship, after all. One extra mouth to feed was one too many for the amount of supplies they currently had.

“Mm... “ Volkner hummed thoughtfully, not budging from his position behind Flint. “Heard rumors of the _Champion Time_ at Ambrette Island. Might want to steer clear of them. No one wants a ship war at this time.”

Cynthia nodded in acknowledgement. “Laverre should be far enough from both the Navy and Captain Khanna’s men that we can stop for a short while and stock up. It’s still in Devon territory, but soldiers are rarely found there because it’s so quiet. The most we will see from the kingdom are a few merchant ships. We’ll head there.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Flint saluted the Siren with a grin before spinning around and heading off, pulling Volkner along by the sleeve. As her crew returned to their posts, the captain turned back to watching the clouds roll past, letting the wind caress her skin.

  
That night, Diantha woke with a start. Her head throbbed and her throat was dry, but the sound of the waves helped to soothe her pounding heart. She was no stranger to the swaying of a ship, thankfully. Long boat rides to secluded islands for noble vacations throughout her life had helped her adapt to the feeling of water beneath her feet. After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she sighed, a frown twisting her delicate porcelain face. She wasn’t bound. She was, in fact, free to roam the entirety of the ship, but she remained below deck by choice, away from the crew and away from the Siren in particular. She knew that there was no escaping now that they were far at sea, but refusing to join them gave her a tiny sense of comfort, as small of a form of resistance as it was.

The door to the small cabin where she stayed swung open and a woman with wild purple hair pranced in, holding a small tray of food. “Helloooo, darling!” She called cheerily.

Diantha blinked in confusion, sitting up and watching the woman warily. She was tall, taller than even the Siren, with a flowy, open blouse, pants that flared out before the cuffs, and a long and sparkly purple sash draped around her waist that flowed as she walked. Diantha had never seen her before. So far, the ones to bring her the meals were all men, varying from the muscular, bearded man in blue to the boy with a yellow streak of hair tucked into a ponytail of otherwise red curls. Up until now, Diantha had been certain there were only two women on the ship: herself, and the Siren. She stayed silent as the woman bustled about in her tiny room, carefully taking the food from her. “...Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, _mademoiselle._ ” The woman smiled and clapped her hands. “If you need anything, let me know, _oui?_ ”

Her accent was heavy and remarkably familiar to Diantha. The way the woman’s voice flowed was so similar to the way Diantha’s own mother spoke. “Who are you?” She frowned. “You’re not from these parts, are you?”

“I am Fantina, a dancer!” The woman twirled elegantly, smiling radiantly at Diantha. “I come from a small town in Kalos; my father was a cruel, greedy man. One day, I ran away from home and joined a traveling circus — Yes,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes at Diantha’s incredulous expression. “It was _fantastique._ Dancers and acrobats and sword swallowers and flame breathers. But! Even the music and the laughter could not satisfy me! No stage was large enough for a performer such as myself! I found my true calling when I met our beloved captain. I fell in love with the sea, the largest stage of them all, and I’ve been by her side ever since.”

Silence followed.

“Do you share your personal history with everyone you meet?”

_“Oui!”_

“…I see.” Diantha looked back down at her food, turning Fantina’s words over in her mind. “You speak highly of the Siren,” she commented stiffly.

“But of course,” the tall woman replied airily, shifting her weight onto one foot. “Captain Branwen is an honorable woman who has given all of us a home. Don’t let her reputation cloud your judgement of her, _mademoiselle._ She is a person too.”

Diantha didn’t feel particularly convinced, and she supposed that it showed on her face, because Fantina sighed and crouched in front of her. “We are pirates, my dear. Humans. Not monsters.” A dazzling smile then crossed her face, and she took Diantha’s hands, ignoring the squeak of protest from the noblewoman. “Come! I’ll show you just what I mean, hm? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, anyhow; the fresh night air will do you good!”

Diantha didn’t have much of a choice, as she was swiftly dragged to her feet and towards the door as if she weighed nothing.

Pulled onto the deck of the ship, Diantha watched the crew with wide eyes. They were laughing and shouting, trying to be heard over the jovial music being played by their crew mates. The noblewoman managed to pull her hand away from Fantina, who was already skipping forwards to join the celebration.

Staying on the edge of the light cast by the many lanterns strewn about, Diantha observed with narrowed eyes. Thankfully, the darkness managed to keep her hidden from the distracted crew. She saw mugs clank together, obviously filled with alcohol, smiles disappearing behind the rims. With a few more moments of searching, Diantha finally managed to spot the Siren herself.

She was off to the side, back to her crew. There was a smile on her face as she leaned on the railing of the ship, listening to her crew attempt to sing, some of them horribly off key. That didn’t seem to dull her bright smile any, and it wasn’t long before someone was tugging her away from her stargazing.

Diantha crossed her arms, turning to head back down to her room only to stop and watch as the Siren joined Fantina and a few other crewmates at the center of the circle they had made. It was subtle at first, the way the Siren began to sway with her crew, a smile still present on her face. As the beat began to pick up, she started laughing, and Diantha couldn’t help but lean towards the sound. The way she moved, every roll of her hips, every toss of her head and wave of her arm was… enthralling. She began to understand just how Captain Branwen had earned her nickname.

Soon, before she realized what was happening, she stepped further into the light, still entranced. There was a moment of pause before the Siren’s eyes suddenly met hers, and she realized the darkness no longer hid her. With a stumble, she hurried back to where she came from, going back down to her room with an embarrassed blush.

She could hear the festivities continue behind her, and for a moment, the thought of being alone again stung something in her heart.

After a few more days of waiting in her room, Diantha finally pulled herself from her bed with a sad glare at herself in the small mirror her room had. Her hair that would normally be styled up and off her neck hung down, knotted like a bird’s nest. Her face, which would normally be caked in layers of cosmetics, was left bare and pale. Quickly fixing herself up to the best of her ability, she finally walked back up to the deck on her own. A hand was raised to shield the light from her eyes, still unadjusted after pouting below deck for so long. Members of the crew were bustling about, doing their jobs without much complaint, and most did not even spare her a glance. Diantha watched cautiously, a hand gripping at her skirts in slight fear.

This was why she was kept in her room without the door even being locked. There were so many people, and no land in sight. Trying to rebel was, at best, a death sentence. She knew this, and thus, stayed put. Well not anymore. 

She stayed on the edge of the ship, keeping her distance from the crew members. She was so focused on keeping her distance from one particularly loud man with red hair, that she didn’t notice the person behind her until it was too late. Her back bumped against the person with a solid ‘thump’ and she turned, eyes wide, manners hardwired in her brain already having an ‘excuse me’ ready to leave her lips. The words died on her tongue when she registered who it was she had walked into.

The Siren looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused. Diantha had to crane her neck to look up at the other woman. They were close enough that Diantha could follow the curve of the pirate’s lips with her eyes and see the distinct shade of grey of her iris. A cool, dark grey, like the kind of a silvery storm rolling up over the sea on the horizon... It was Diantha’s first time being so close to the pirate, and it was the first time Diantha realized how truly beautiful she was. Her long blonde hair may as well have been weaved from a golden fleece. Those lips—

“You left your room?” That smooth voice of hers snapped Diantha out of her thoughts, and she felt something suddenly rise up in her throat. Anger and indignance.

“Well, your crew didn’t lock the door! Why _should_ I stay put, hm?!” Diantha rebutted, a pout on her lips. That only earns a laugh from the pirate, the taller woman crossing her arms.

“True. But pretty little dolls don’t need the doors of their dollhouse locked to stay put. You certainly aren’t any different, with how you’ve been acting recently.” The comment from the woman stung something in Diantha, blue eyes widening in shock.

“How _dare_ you?! You have no right to speak to me that way!” Diantha yelled through gritted teeth, ignoring the stares from the crew, all of whom had stopped working.

“Oh?” A smirk played across the Siren’s lips, and she leaned against the railing of the ship as if she were having a casual conversation with the noblewoman. She tilted her head, a show of mild curiosity. “And who’s going to stop me, little doll?”

Diantha looked to her feet, hands in tight fists at her sides. When she gained the courage to look back up at the captain, she was glaring, baring her teeth. “I’ll show you!”

As quick as a flash, she lurched forwards, pulling the pirate’s sword from her scabbard and holding it up aggressively. It was heavier then she was used to, the slightly curved blade tipping out of her hands a bit before she caught it, more firmly this time, and pointed it directly at the other woman’s chest. 

The rest of the crew had fully stopped what they were doing by then, watching curiously, hands on their own weapons to come to their captain’s defense just in case. The Siren had the gall to look slightly impressed before laughing, a hand raised to hide her mouth in an unexpectedly dainty manner. The entire time, she hadn’t moved, staying still even as Diantha grabbed her weapon, as if letting her take the thing.

“Ah… You’re shaking like a leaf, doll.” She murmured softly, before suddenly dropping low to the deck and lashing out at Diantha’s legs. It was too fast for Diantha to notice and she toppled backwards with a yelp, the cutlass falling from her hands and clattering onto the wooden floor of the ship. She closed her eyes tightly, fully prepared for a humiliating fall onto her backside in front of the Siren’s crew, but it never came. A strong arm wrapped familiarly around her waist, preventing her from landing on the floor. When she finally peeked at her savior, she gasped. The Siren was gazing down at her, that slightly amused smile still present on her face and golden hair falling like a curtain around Diantha. With a start, Diantha realized that the pirate was missing her left eye, the eyepatch and ugly scar stretching across her face that were usually hidden by her hair now in full view. 

“It’s cute that you know how to hold it properly. I’m actually rather impressed, doll.” Without letting go of the noblewoman, she ducked down and picked up her fallen sword, easily sliding it back into its scabbard. “A cutlass isn’t a toy, though, and certainly not something for the likes of you to use lightly. Now go back down to wallowing in your self pity before you hurt yourself, hm?”

With that she effortlessly pulled Diantha upright, making sure she had her footing before releasing her and stepping away. Diantha was silent, twisting her skirts in her hands before turning on her heel and rushing below deck towards her room, ears burning with humiliation.

“Hey, uh, Captain?” She could hear faintly through the wood as she descended down the stairs to the cabins. “Is it alright to just let her loose like that on the ship and do as she pleases?”

“It’ll be fine.” The Siren’s voice reached Diantha’s ears far more clearly and she paused, heart pounding. “The girl will learn that it’s easier to cooperate soon enough. We’re not using any force against her, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t if she gets more difficult. She seems smarter than she looks; she’ll catch on.” 

Diantha bristled at the Siren’s dismissive tone, hands tightening into fists once more, before she stormed to her quarters and slammed the door as forcefully as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet part of the crew! Welcome Fantina, Volkner, and Flint! Can you guess who the other two are? ;D
> 
> Also, some of you might have noticed a reference to the Champion Time and its Captain from shamusiel's fic Tempest. You can read that [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22962820/chapters/54891976)  
> (Pls read it it's amazing and Zacharie if you see this <3 <3 <3 )


End file.
